So I know that the rapture is Biblical. It’s going to happen. When and what it’ll look like are mysteries to all but the Father. I was about 95% sure that the rapture wasn’t going to happen this past weekend. I mean, crazies are crazies.
But what’s funny is that I found a serious sense of exciting building in me last week. I wanted the rapture to happen, and when Saturday came and went and life carried on as normal, I felt let down. I was sad because I’m still here and Jesus didn’t return, and I kind of still am.
At church on Sunday, the last song we sang was “You Hold Me Now” by Hillsong. The chorus goes like this:
No weeping, no hurt or pain
No suffering
You hold me now
You hold me now
No darkness, no sick or lame
No hiding
You hold me now
You hold me now
I looked around while we sang this chorus, and hands were raised to Heaven all over the sanctuary, as if people were reaching away from this world and toward the next, like kids reaching for their Mommas on tiptoes. And I did the same.
The words of this song have bugged me in the past because it’s like we’re wanting so badly to be where everything’s perfect instead of wanting to be with the One who IS perfection, a classic example of wanting God for what He can give you, also a classic example of my tendency toward criticizing the church. Regardless, this Sunday it really resonated. I’m here in this fallen world, left to wait on my Love’s return. And in the meantime, in this incredible, prolonged season of waiting and learning, I must endure hardship and sickness and heartache. I must live each day with this longing in me that simply will not be fulfilled until He returns or kills me. All this hating of time, work, difficulty in relationships, all the money woes and self esteem issues, the distance I can’t cover, not to mention my inability to teleport no matter how I will it so, they’re all symptoms, groanings indicative of the gap fixed between myself and God. This gap pains Him, too, but He sees the end, His glorification the ultimate purpose. I have confidence in this finish line, and I want it, too, by whatever means.
I guess right now I’m just tired of the pining, of this thing in me that cries out, sick of my own thoughts which constantly dwell on my own welfare. I’m tired of not being able to escape the laws of physical need. I’d like to be sustained by His very presence instead of air and food and water and sleep. Can you imagine being completely satisfied by the Music surrounding His throne? Meeting and rejoicing with the whole of Christendom, in relationships that aren’t strained by differences and enculturation but brought together by a common transformation?
Lately it’s as if things and people and worries and lists pile up. But instead of towering higher and diverting attention or growing into a monument for worship, they create this negative space of longing. But the air in this space is charged with anticipation of Christ’s return. And I wish it’d happened this past weekend.
I’ve been told that I’ll feel differently when I have children, that I’ll have more to lose and will be more hesitant for the end of all this. But I urge you, if you’re reading this but can’t feel the desperation of the matter, examine yourself. Your kids may well be your idol. Your job or success or ministry or experience might be.
He’s all the good there is. When something is touched by Him it becomes worthwhile. He satisfies. He’s enough and more for every need. He’s the answer to every question. Everything beautiful points to Him. The thing that makes you happiest is a trash dump when set in comparison to His face.
Long for Him. Tell Him you want His return, because He spends every moment pining for You and died in order to make it possible. If you don’t long for Him, ask for revelation, and He’ll respond. That’s who He is.
Come, Lord Jesus. Come. Do not be slow. Do not withhold Heaven from us, but come down and wrap us up in You. Prove Your victory. May every knee bow, and soon.
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